


Two Men Walk Into a Bar

by Magnetism_bind



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Blackmail, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> </p><p>  <i>Logan might be willing to join the guys. But only if he can fuck the professor while his boyfriend is watching them.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Men Walk Into a Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a 1stclass_kink prompt over on Livejournal.

The two men introduce themselves, one on either side of him. Logan hates being boxed in like this, so he's not particularly inclined to be polite. He reaches for his cigar.

“So?”

Their names mean shit as far as he's concerned. The taller one, in the hip turtleneck, jerks his head at the door, clearly ready to abandon whatever errand they're on. The other man shrugs, a small smile on his lips.

“We'd like to talk to you, if we may.” He's polite and earnest and _young_. Logan feels ancient, but he's still thirsty and the kid's cute...

So he shrugs and finishes his whiskey in one long gulp. “You're buying.”

The baby face one leads the way over to a corner table. The turtleneck puts himself between Logan and the kid, as though trying to protect him from Logan. Babyface seems unfazed by his companion's concern.

“We would like you to consider a proposition.”

“Which is?”

The waiter brings their drinks over and Logan reaches for his whiskey gratefully.

“Joining us.”

Logan chuckles. “No can do. I prefer women. For the most part.”

Turtleneck tenses. Babyface rests his hand on the other's wrist, calming him casually.

“It's a little more...special than that.” He says, only he doesn't say the words. They're simply there in Logan's head and the kid is watching him closely. Most likely he thinks Logan will freak out. Logan takes another sip of whiskey, playing it cool.

 _So?_ He thinks. _You want me to join your little freak show? Is that it?_

 _Yes,_ Charles thinks simply. The name is there, inserted easily instead of Babyface. Logan has to grin at that.

Logan considers this, considers the other man as well, who clearly knows what's going on, but is left out of the conversation. Logan thinks back to when they walked in. Erik, right. Yeah, Erik doesn't like it too much.

Any other day he'd tell them to go fuck themselves and forget it. But this time, Logan's bored. He's been waiting for his bike to be repaired for two days now. There's no fights happening in this town to take the edge off the monotony. This just might have to do.

“I'll consider it,” He says aloud.

“Really?” Charles is mildly surprised.

 _But on one condition,_ Logan adds.

 _What?_ Charles already sounds too pleased.

 _I get to fuck you._ He lets the words sink in, lets Charles think about them, before repeating them aloud for the other guy's benefit. Erik's jaw tightens and he leans across the table, reaching for Logan's throat.

 _“Erik.”_ The telepath stops him inches away from Logan.

“You heard him, Charles.” Erik says curtly, but he lowers his hand.

“I did.” Charles acknowledges. “I also know there's more.”

“You're smarter than you look.” Logan flicks ash at the ashtray between them, taking slight satisfaction in the fact that half of it lands on Erik's sleeve instead.

“What's the catch?” Erik asks the question, but it's to Charles that Logan makes his reply.

“I want to do it while your boyfriend watches.” Logan takes a sip of whiskey and sits back.

_We're leaving._

_Erik, wait._

_You can't seriously be considering this, are you?_

Charles shrugs imperceptibly. He's intrigued, amused, and...slightly aroused. The thought is is not unattractive... he glances at Erik, who apparently finds it none of these things.

_He's a powerful mutant, Erik, with an infinite power for healing. Who knows what we can learn from him? We need him._

_At the price of your body?_ Erik's entire body is rigid with tension.

_There are worse things._

_You like the idea, don't you? Admit it, Charles. I can see it in your eyes._

_If I say yes..._

Erik sighs and reaches for his drink. He smiles pointedly at Logan. “It would appear my 'boyfriend,'” he sneers the word at Charles, “is willing to accept your offer.”

“Really?” Logan glances at him skeptically. “And you're....”

“He's a grown man. He can make his own decisions.” Erik downs his drink and stands. “Well, shall we?”

“Let's.” Charles stands.

Logan shrugs and gets up.

 

Erik purchases a bottle of of whiskey at the bar and they head back to Logan's hotel. Erik doesn't want this happening where they're staying.

Logan lets them in, watches them assess the room as he closes the door. It's a shitty room in a shitty hotel, but they're not here for a tea party. He reaches for his shirt.

“Let's get this party started.”

Charles inhales softly as he watches the man undress. Logan smells like whiskey and cigar smoke. It's pleasant, almost as pleasant as the man's body. Logan is lean and well-muscled. He shows no embarrassment as he strips off his shirt.

“Your turn.” Logan nods at Charles, taking a swig of whiskey from his own bottle standing on the dresser. He looks at Erik. “There's a glass if you want it, ice in the bucket.”

“Thank you.” Erik says tersely. He fixes himself a drink as Charles starts to undress.

Charles removes his jacket carefully, hanging it over the arm of the chair. He unbuttons his shirt, then loosens his belt as he pulls his shirt free from his trousers.

Erik has settled into the chair in the corner, where he has a perfectly good view of the bed. He's angry; Charles knows that. Angry that his friend is apparently selling himself for the man's agreement. But there's something more there. Charles wants to probe, but...

 _Stay. Out. Charles._ Erik's mind is angry and violent, pushing back at him.

Charles pulls back, cheeks slightly flushed. He doesn't look at Erik as he lowers his trousers and steps out of them. Logan shucks his jeans. He's not wearing any underwear, so Charles is confronted by the sight of his cock straight away. _Christ._ He's well formed, thick and full and hard, obviously enjoying the thought of fucking Charles.

“On your stomach.” Logan goes over to the dresser. He gets a condom out of his wallet while Charles positions himself on the bed. Logan looks at him, then at the tense silent man in the corner. He grabs the bottle of lube as well. It's not like he wants to hurt the kid. Just leave him a little bruised, that's all.

At last, Logan discards the cigar butt finally in the ashtray on the table next to Erik's chair.

Erik's hand snakes out to grab his wrist. “If you hurt him, I'll kill you.” The words are muted, casual even, but he means them and Logan has to admire him for that.

“Not my intention, pal.” He doesn't notice the way Erik's fingertips seem to freeze when Erik pulls them away from his skin, staring at them, before looking up at Logan strangely.

He doesn't realize.

But Erik does.

 

Logan settles between Charles's legs. “So how long has it been?” He asks casually as he pours lube onto his palm.

“What?” Charles rests his chin on his folded arms. He's doing his best to relax, but it's still a little difficult. He can feel Erik's mood across the room, hovering like a dark cloud.

“Since you two fucked.” He traces the ring of Charles's hole, loving the way the kid tenses beneath his touch. Logan pushes the tip of his finger in. Jesus, the kid is tense.

“What? Oh. We've....” Charles trails off into silence. He can't say it somehow, even though it's the truth. Perhaps, he hopes cowardly, Erik will step in and say what he hasn't...

Logan pushes his finger all the way in, testingly. “You've never fucked, have you?” It's a surprise. He'd really thought they were a couple. “That, or you're always on top, which frankly, I'd find a little surprising.”

“Thanks.” Charles mutters dryly, then moans softly as Logan curls his finger teasingly.

It's obvious that the kid likes it, so he adds another, stretching Charles as he thinks about this.

“So am I the first here?”

“Not exactly,” Charles confesses, squirming a little. “But it has been some time since my Oxford days.”

Erik snorts at that. “It's been less than a year.” He reaches for his whiskey, taking a long, slow sip.

Logan has to chuckle at that. _So not your first, but in before him._

_We're not._

_You should be._ Logan likes the way Charles squirms under his fingers.

_What?_

_Unless you're an idiot._ Logan pulls his fingers out, wiping them on the sheet. He rolls a condom on, keeping one had on Charles's hip.

_And that's supposed to mean..._

Logan answers by thrusting into him full tilt, causing Charles to cry out and clutch at the sheets. Fuck, the kid feels amazing. So fucking young and perfect. Logan grips his hips tightly, forcing Charles up on his knees at a better angle. He watches his dick slide in and out of Charles's hole, enjoying the sight.

Charles is trembling, shoulders tensed, head lowered and hard as a rock when Logan reaches around to take hold of him. He runs a hand down Charles's length and then takes it away.

Logan grunts under the strain of adjusting his body to fucking a smaller man. Charles isn't really small exactly...well, he is short, but he's more compact than anything else. He fits under Logan well enough, although if Logan pressed his form atop the other man's he'd cover Charles completely.

Unbidden, his hips rock forward, pushing harder into Charles, harsher than before.

The man in the corner sips his drink and remains perfectly silent. Do they really think they get all the mutants to join together like some goddamn club? Can they really be that naive? Logan would have guessed it of Charles, it fits with him, but Erik? No.

 _He's doing this for you._ He feels obliged to point this out for some perverse reason.

_What?_

_This little game, gathering the mutants. He's only doing it because you want him to._

_I think I know Erik a little better than you._

_Oh yeah, then how come you hadn't cottoned to the fact he wants to fuck your brains out?_

That shuts the telepath up at last. Logan grunts again as he pulls out, admiring the work he's done so far, (all pink and fucked open) before thrusting back inside Charles's ready entrance.

Erik never makes a sound.

 

It feels like he's being fucked open by an animal. At least, Charles assumes that's what he's supposed to feel. Logan is rough, but not cruel as he moves inside him. And, as antagonizing as his conversation is, he's kept most of it to their minds. A fact Charles appreciates no small amount. He thinks of what Logan said, of Erik....warmth pools in his groin, but is it from the man fucking him, or the mere thought of the man that Charles has come to appreciate more than he wants to admit?

He risks a glance at Erik who feels distant, despite the close quarters of the room. His hand is clasped loosely around the whiskey glass as he watches the movements on the bed. Their eyes meet, and for once Erik doesn't glance away. Instead he gazed back at Charles, drinking in the sight of Charles getting truly, properly fucked. He's hard, even if he doesn't want to admit it, Charles can tell. Erik doesn't care. He looks back at Charles almost calmly, and then...

It's a small gesture. Charles could have missed it easily. All Erik did was curve his hand ever so slightly. But Logan growls and grips Charles's hips, fucking him harder, and harder, rutting Charles down into the mattress beneath him. His own cock is aching, but then Logan touches him again, stroking him in loose, long strokes, timing it with his thrusts.

It's all too neat. The roughness is still there, but it's shifted slightly, more aggressive, more possessive. Charles glances at Erik who looks innocent enough, and that's how Charles knows something is definitely going on.

Logan comes with a groan, shooting inside him in a hot, thick rush. Charles comes only a moment later, spilling helplessly over the man's able fingers.

Logan pulls out of him and steps back. “Fuck,” he says succinctly. He pulls the condom off, ties it and tosses it in the trashcan.

For a moment there's silence as Charles pushes himself into a sitting position rather gingerly. He watches as Logan returns to the dresser for a swig of whiskey.

Charles leans over to reach into his jacket pocket. “So here's the address where we're assembling the rest of the mutants we've found.” Charles scribbles on a piece of paper and hands it out to Logan. “We should be back by the beginning of next month, if not sooner. We'll see you then.”

“We'll see.” Logan tosses it on the dresser without even glancing at it. The whiskey burns comfortably in his throat. For the first time in the last two days, he feels good, relaxed even.

“What?” Charles actually sounds surprised.

“I said I'd consider joining your little freak show, not that I would join it.” He reaches for his jeans. “You should make sure your deals are watertight before your spread your legs.”

“But I thought...” With his hair tousled from sex, Charles somehow looks even younger than he is. Younger, irrepressibly naive and so fucking surprised. Logan almost feels sorry for him. But life's a game, and the sooner the kid learns that nobody's playing by the rules but him, the better it'll be for him.

“Enough!” Erik's out of his chair in one fluid movement. He comes toward Logan, who tenses, readying himself to attack. Without warning, he's flung back against the bed. With a grunt of surprise, he strains against whatever's holding him. He can't move. Fuck.

“Erik,” Charles is standing beside his friend, naked and earnest. “Erik, stop.”

“Not just yet.” Erik moves his hand and Logan's flat against the wall, pressed so tight he can barely breathe.

“Erik!”

“He's metal.” Erik laughs, and there's a strange, twisted joy in the sound. It makes Logan's skin crawl. “He's pure fucking metal, all the way through.” He clenches his hand into a fist, dragging Logan across the room to stand right in front of him. Erik studies him, before lowering Logan to his knees. “Of course, he's not really _pure_ metal. He's a bastardized tool, fashioned a tad cruelly perhaps, but still...metal all the same.”

His touch is all over Logan's body, examining him. Somehow it's far more invasive than the telepath's voice in his head. Logan twists helplessly, held prisoner by his own body.

“Erik, stop this now.”

“Get dressed.” Erik orders, not looking away from Logan. “Now.”

Charles complies for once.

Erik looks down at the helpless mutant at his feet. He grips Logan's jaw, forcing him to look up. “You shouldn't have tried to wiggle your way out of the deal.” He looks at Charles, then back at Logan. “So here's what you're going to do. You're going to get dressed. You're going to be waiting at that address when we get back. Understood?”

“And if I'm not?” Logan growls.

“I will hunt you down and tear you apart, piece by piece.” Erik leans in close. “You should have just accepted.”

“Not like this.” Charles interrupts firmly. He's dressed at last, cheeks still flushed, hair still mussed. “Erik, release him.”

“No.”

_Erik, please. He's not a threat. To either of us._

Slowly, Erik releases his hold. Logan straightens up, hands itching to strangle the guy.

“Logan, if you join us...I want it to be of your own volition. Not,” he emphasizes, “because my friend has threatened you into it. Understood?”

“Got it.” Logan rubs at the back of his head where he hit the wall.

“Now.” Charles reaches for his jacket. “I think we should say goodnight. Erik?” He nods at the door.

Erik leaves without a backward glance, Charles following him silently.

Logan falls backward onto the bed, sweating. He reaches for the whiskey bottle. He needs to get out of this town.

 

They take a taxi back to their own hotel. Erik is silent the entire way. Charles manages to hold his tongue until they're in their hotel room.

“It wasn't the implication we were gay that bothered you.” He ventures at last.

“Of course not.” Erik removes his jacket and hangs it up.

“Only the implication that we were together.” Charles goes further.

Erik nods tersely.

“Are you going to tell me?” Charles asks, unable to keep the irritation from his tone. _Or do I have to tease it from your mind?_

Erik looks at him, and for a moment his thoughts are as clear as day. _Of all the things I thought I could never give you, Charles...and then he strips you bare, and just does it without a second thought._

Charles winces internally. He opens his mouth to speak, but Erik isn't finished.

“What he said back there was true.”

Charles stares at him incredulously. “You never said.”

Erik's lips twist. “I never thought there was a point.”

It's a simple enough statement, but it stings all the same. Charles wants to know why Erik never thought he'd stand a chance, but can't bring himself to voice the question.

“So that little demonstration back there...”

“Was to show him we could have taken him by force if we had to.” Erik seats himself in the chair at the foot of the bed.

“Not that.” Charles says. “Erik, while he was fucking me...that was you.” _All those extra touches. The passion. That was you._

Erik threads his fingers together and nods. “Yes.” He makes no effort to hide it. Not any more. There's no point.

“When did you realize he was metal?”

“He touched me earlier. I couldn't believe I didn't sense it before.”

“And you did it because...” Charles waits.

Erik sighs, leaning back in his chair. He looks exhausted, and almost sad. “I simply assumed it would be the only time I had a hand in making you come.”

Charles catches his breath softly. He clears his throat and shakes his head. “Well, I hope you've learned your lesson.”

“Which would be what, exactly?”

“Never assume anything.” Charles tells him, unable to keep the smile from his lips.

Erik just looks at him, and then chuckles. “Perhaps, you'd better teach it to me.”

The look in his eyes is all the invitation Charles needs.


End file.
